Crap, crap, crap, crap. “Why are you here?” Her tone held no friendly warmth of recognition.
“I came to buy a coffee. I was at a meeting with a client up the street, and they told me this was the best place to get a coffee. I had no idea you were here. Don’t I get a hello?”
Honey glanced around, swallowing down the bile that burned the back of her throat. Seth was nowhere to be seen, and Lana wasn’t due in for another hour. She was stuck having to deal with Bryce Maplecourt, her abusive ex-boyfriend, on her own, and she wasn’t ready for it.
Bryce was tall and thin, with fine sharp features, ice-cold blue eyes , and short black hair slicked expertly to the side. Honey knew under his cashmere overcoat he would be wearing a designer suit. Bryce had always known how to put himself together. He dressed with as much care as most of the male models she had dated. It was what had drawn her to him originally.
Slowly and deliberately, Honey turned back toward the counter, positioning herself at the register.
“Hello. What can I get for you?” Her voice sounded robotic to her ears.
“Rachelle,” Bryce’s voice drew out her name, but there was no emotion to it. “I really had no idea you would be here. I thought you were further south, like in Santa Barbara all this time.”
“My name is Honey, just like it always has been.”
“I never liked that name. What were your parents thinking? Honey Gould. It’s so, so trashy. At least they gave you a classic middle name.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think of my name. You don’t even pronounce it correctly. If you are going to talk to me, use the name Honey. It’s my name. I like it. Now, what can I get for you, Bryce?” She tried to look him directly in the eye but the piercing blueness of them held anger. She quickly averted her own.
“No catching up for old time’s sake? You look,” he paused eyeing her form, a sneer pulled at his upper lip, “settled. Older. You’ve put on some weight. You should ask about me now.”
Honey stared at him blankly, her expression belied her inner turmoil.
“I am doing exceptionally well, Rachelle. Do you want to know more?”
The door opened behind him. A gaggle of cold tourists entered.
Honey felt her tension slip just a notch. She immediately felt safer with others around but not safe enough. She would never feel safe in the same room with Bryce. “Yes. I would like to know what you want? As you can see, I have other customers waiting. It’s pretty straightforward here. Coffee, espresso, hot chocolate, tea, or something out of the cooler.” Her brain kept repeating the mantra just order and leave. Just order and leave.
“I’ll have a medium half-caf then.”
Honey rang up his total, without even asking if it was for here or to-go or if he cared for anything else. She fixed the drink, repeating just leave in her head. She handed Bryce the paper cup full of coffee. “You can leave now.” She kept her tone as unaffected as possible but she couldn’t help but notice her hands were shaking.
Bryce also noticed and took his coffee. “Not very stable these days, hmm?” he muttered.
She carefully tried to not pay attention to the snide remark. If she was unstable, he certainly had done his best to contribute to that state. Once he moved away from the counter, she attempted to put all of her focus on the group of women waiting after him. It didn’t work. She began to feel sick. Bryce took too long doctoring his drink. As much as Honey didn’t want to pay attention to him, she couldn’t help it. Every time she glanced in his direction, she caught him glaring at her through narrowed eyes.
The woman in front of her had to repeat her order. “I’m so sorry.” Honey apologized, yet her eyes followed Bryce’s back as he finally turned towards the door to leave.
It appeared as if he was about to turn and say something to her when Morgan walked in. With Morgan present, Honey felt herself relax. She instantly felt safer; she felt safe enough.
“I’m so sorry.” She apologized again with a strained giggle. “That man was making me nervous.”
She fixed four hot chocolates and plated two slices of cake, and delivered them to the women who surrounded the table furthest from the door.
“Honey,” This time the voice saying her name felt soothing, warm, and deep. “Did I overhear you say that Maplecourt was bothering you?”
Honey nodded. “He’s my ex-boyfriend. You know him?” Her breathing was shaky.
“He was at the site earlier. He’s the client’s accountant and a real asshole.”
Honey nodded biting her lip. “He’s an asshole all right. Remember when I told you I was looking for something when I moved down here?” Her eyes were wide, fear clearly lingering. “I was looking to get away from him.” She took a ragged breath. “He didn’t know exactly where I was until today.” She started shaking again.
Morgan’s body reacted to her instantly. Fear rolled off of Honey in waves. He longed to wrap her in his arms and protect her from Maplecourt and what he had exposed her to. Morgan reached behind the counter and eased her out, guiding her to a chair. He returned behind the counter and quickly poured her a cup of coffee. “Here.” He handed her the cup, pulled up a chair next to her, and began tenderly stroking her arms, resisting the urge to wrap her in his protective embrace.
Honey held the warm cup and inhaled as if the pungent aroma strengthened her flagging fortitude. Closing her eyes, she began to talk.
“He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my fiancé. I thought he loved me.” She spoke softly and slowly. The words spilling from her on their own. “So pretty. Good family. Knew the right people. He seemed very supportive at first. Really proud when I graduated with my degree in gallery management. Said he would use his connections to get me into one of the museums.” She took a sip of the coffee. She looked up at Morgan and snorted, more of a derisive sound than one of humor. “That never happened.”
The bells over the door jingled.
“Honey are you all right?” Lana asked, rushing to where Honey sat.
“She’s pretty shaken up,” Morgan explained.
“What happened? She looks pale, even for her.” Lana’s voice sounded filled with concern.
“Bryce came in.” Honey’s voice sounded detached.
“Well, shit.” Lana bit off the words. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to go in the back and hide for a bit I think. Maybe puke.” She slowly got up and, as if in a daze, walked behind the counter and into the back.
Morgan glanced at Lana questioningly.
“They were engaged. He messed with her head pretty bad. He was abusive,” Lana explained simply.
Morgan nodded in understanding.
“Look, I’m only telling you this ’cause I know you like her, and something tells me you wouldn’t hurt her. She’s had some serious issues in her past. She was working on herself, getting shit sorted out, and Bryce set her back. Messed with her head.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“He’s a bully, that’s bad enough. He’s a snake.” Lana clearly was self-editing, she seemed to want to use a stronger word, but held herself in check with customers in the café.
“Look, I have to go back to the job site, but—” Morgan rubbed his forehead, thinking, “—uhm, don’t let her walk to her car alone. Have her wait for me. If Maplecourt has decided to stick around for any reason, I’ll deal with him.”
“If you’re really going to be Honey’s friend, you have to know she comes with baggage.”
“Don’t we all?”
Morgan paused outside of the café to dial his phone.
“Dante, whatever you are doing, I’ve got something more important.” Morgan paused to listen to the man on the other end of the line. He harrumphed. “No, you don’t have to cause anyone to disappear under mysterious circumstances, at least not yet. Find anything and everything on an accountant for the Cyan Group, name of Bryce Maplecourt. Anything I can use as leverage.”
*
Honey sat
huddled in the corner, her purse sitting on the table in front of her. Next to it, a cup of coffee grew cold. She stared blankly in front of her. Morgan saw her looking despondent when he came back into The Corner.
He slid into the chair next to her, “Hi, Honey. You waiting for me?”
She nodded.
“I’m glad you waited. I don’t want you walking to your car alone if Maplecourt is a threat to you.”
She nodded again.
“I’m going to check in with Lana, okay?”
Honey kept nodding, not focusing on anything.
Morgan balled his hands into fists before spreading his fingers wide to ease out the tension he felt building. He frequently used this technique to keep his claws in check. Honey was terrified and withdrawing into shock. What had that asshole done to her? Morgan wanted to rip out his throat next time he saw the man. He couldn’t, not while Maplecourt controlled the finances on the construction site. When this building was complete and the relationship with the client over and paid in full, Morgan thought about having a little chat with Maplecourt. Give him a demonstration on intimidation and abuse of power. Even if he never saw Honey again, Morgan would still pay Maplecourt a visit for scaring her like this. Morgan wondered if Maplecourt had set her on edge that first day he saw her. She had been terrified then too.
“How’s she doing? Is she okay?” Morgan asked as he approached Lana at the counter.
Lana looked over to where Honey sat. Concern creased her brow. “He hasn’t seen her for a few years. She thought she was done with him. I think it’s hitting her hard. Last time she saw him, he didn’t notice her, and she was still a mess. This time, she had to talk to him. She’s strong, but sometimes there is only so much you can take.” Lana looked over to where Honey sat. Concern creased her brow.
“I’ll give Maggie a call. Maybe Honey needs to go to my place tonight. Bryce doesn’t know where she lives. I seriously doubt he’s out there stalking her, but I don’t think she should be alone when she’s like this.”
“That’s not a bad idea, at all,” Morgan agreed.
Lana picked up her phone and held up a finger indicating that Morgan should wait for a minute. Her face softened into a broad smile, Maggie clearly picked up on the other end of the line. She nodded and made confirming noises. Morgan returned his focus to Honey, away from Lana’s conversation. He didn’t understand how anyone would want to hurt someone so frail and beautiful. Honey’s eyes held fear, and her chin quivered as she appeared to fight back tears. Morgan wanted to hold and protect her delicate beauty. He wanted to eviscerate Maplecourt.
“Maggie agrees. If you could follow her to make sure she gets to my place, that would be great.”
Morgan nodded in agreement.
“Hey, Honey,” Lana’s voice was soothing as she slid into a chair next to Honey. “Maggie wants you to stay with us tonight, okay? She said she would feel better knowing you were not alone. I’ll go feed Calliope tonight so you don’t have to worry about your cat.”
Honey seemed to refocus on the world around her. She turned to Lana. “Thanks, that’s a real nice idea.” She focused on Morgan, “I don’t really want to go home right now, not anyone’s. Would it be okay if we walked around for a while? I don’t want to feel closed in.”
A slow grin spread across Morgan’s lips. “Sure, Honey, whatever you want.”
“I’ll let Maggie know it could be a while. But you are staying with us tonight.” Lana’s tone was firm. She would take no excuses or arguments.
“Thanks, Lana. Yes, I’ll stay. I’m sorry I got a little weird there for a bit.”
“It’s okay Honey, it really is.”
Morgan followed Honey out of the café.
“Where to?” he asked. His deep voice calmed Honey’s nervous stomach.
“You mind just wandering up and down the tourist spots a bit? I want to distract my mind.”
“Sure.” Morgan placed his hand on the small of her back and led her past a group on the sidewalk.
The sidewalks were fairly empty, the fog having chased most people indoors.
“When I first moved here, it was always like this. Too quiet.” Honey began. “No night life. The fog always rolls in around four in the afternoon, just like today, and then the sidewalks roll up soon after. Too quiet for me. Especially after having lived in nothing but cities for years.”
They wandered past the aquarium. Normally crawling with tourists, after hours it was spookily quiet. They passed several shop fronts before Honey turned to Morgan, suggesting they enter one, a typical tourist shop for the region full of jewelry, tchotchkes made from shells, and Tshirts with sea otters and Monterey Cannery Row emblazoned across the front. The repeating themes of the shop were coastal and golf.
Honey led Morgan into another shop. Another repetition of similar touristy gift items. Morgan kept an eye on Honey, watching to see if any of these items sparked an interest in her. She seemed oddly detached as if she barely registered what her eyes were seeing. He realized that Maplecourt must have seriously hurt her, and not just physically.
Honey clearly processed information and feelings inside somewhere. That or she was shutting down. Morgan knew he could protect her from any physical harm, but from what Lana had said and based on Honey’s reactions, Maplecourt’s damage had been psychological. It sounded like he joyfully fed her demons and doubts. That was something Morgan could not confront and face down. There was nothing to take a bite out of to make everything better. He wasn’t sure how to protect her from that kind of past abuse. He could be here for her now, and that was the best he could do. As long as she allowed him to stay around, he would make sure those demons would never be fed again.
Morgan positioned himself close behind her. “Honey.” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, breaking the silence of their wanderings.
She jumped at his touch. “Yeah?”
“You feel like talking about it? I’m a good listener.” Morgan wasn’t sure what to do, all he knew was that he wanted Honey to be happy, not sad and frightened.
She turned a wan smile towards him. “Not right now if that’s okay, Morgan. Right now I think I just want to feel safe.” She removed her hand from the charm at her neck to place her fingers on the back of his hand. “I feel safe with you.”
Morgan gave her a brief nod then folded his fingers around her slim hand, engulfing it. She was safe with him, safer than she realized.
They wandered in and out of several shops in silence holding hands.
“I want to go look at the water,” Honey announced. Quietly, they strolled back past all the shops and the aquarium and walked along the bike path until they were next to the water. The tide rolled out. No large waves crashed against the coastal rocks. The smooth lapping of water covered rocks then receded. California harbor seals perched on top of lonely rocks.
Honey continued walking, pulling Morgan with her as she headed further out on the rocks. She let go of his hand as she jumped from one rock to another and began climbing higher before sitting on a flat surface. Morgan followed her, sitting on the rock next to her.
“I forget sometimes that I can walk out the door of work and come sit here.” A car passed behind them on the road, the sound muffled and distant. “The fog makes it feel like we’re the only people for miles and miles. Isolated. Lonely.” She spoke softly, voicing the thoughts in her head. “It can be depressing. But not when I come to the water. It all goes away. It’s not desolate, it’s beautiful. It’s like the waves and air cleanse my spirit.” She huffed through her nose. “Saltwater therapy, sea air, and ocean waves. This is almost as good as a therapist. I mean, a good therapist makes you think about your issues so that you can solve them on your own. The ocean clears my head so I can think straight and figure out what my problems are.” She glanced at Morgan, seeing if he understood her meaning.
He nodded at her. She noticed a glint of amber light flickering in his dark eyes.
“You still want to listen? I can talk f
or a while.”
“I don’t have any plans, except to see you safely to Lana’s for the night.” Morgan grinned at her. “Until then, I’m all yours.”
“Okay.” Honey took a deep cleansing breath and stared out into the water. “I met Bryce my last year of school. I was interning at a gallery.” Her hand zipped the charm from side to side along the chain at her neck.
She could picture the first time she and Bryce met. It was a slow, dreary, drizzly winter afternoon, and she was minding the gallery on her own, first-time solo. She was nervous but glad it was the kind of afternoon people didn’t window shop. She had never really had to talk to anyone before, never had to try to sell anything. Her mentor said she would do fine and not to try to sell a piece. Instead, she should approach a prospective client like trying to set up friends on a date. Her job was matchmaker for art, not painting seller.
Bryce acted as if he had been lured into the gallery by a particular painting. He was the prettiest man outside of modeling she had ever seen. Fine features, almost delicate bone structure, sharp blue eyes, a dazzling smile, black-black hair and pale-pale skin, tailored designer suit. Honey had tried to set him up with every painting in the gallery that afternoon. In the end, he insisted she go out to dinner with him. And for some reason, she did not refuse. Now she realized he had been playing head games with her from the very beginning.
“It started off with small things. Like my name. He always used my middle name, Rachael, but he pronounced it rah-shell instead of ray-chel. At the time I loved it, it sounded soft, elegant, sexy. He was the only person who called me Rachelle; everyone else called me Honey. It felt special. It took me a while to realize what he was doing. He started to point out how low-class he thought the name Honey really was. Classic abuse. Undermined me, cut me off from my friends, convinced me I didn’t need therapy anymore. he was messing with me, making me think I was crazy.”
It had been over food. The fights hadn’t always been about food, but so many of the bad ones had been. Bryce would get angry with her for not eating then get angry with her for eating and ruining her figure. She couldn’t win.
Protective: Legatum - Book 1 Page 4